


tonight we'll both go m.i.a.

by dontstansmosh (platinumbered)



Series: be your shadow [1]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Romantic Soulmates, Slice of Life, SmoshWritingWeek2019 - Day 1, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 23:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19936210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinumbered/pseuds/dontstansmosh
Summary: Having a reputation is fun. Easy. David likes getting tattoos and piercing his ears, stealing Dad’s motorcycle for joyrides at three in the morning. It’s a gimmick, sure, one that’s been done to death--but it feels nice. Feels good.And then.Or, Wes & David’s humble beginnings.





	tonight we'll both go m.i.a.

**Author's Note:**

> hey!!!
> 
> this is my submission for day 1 of smosh writing week 2019!!!! im not used to writing with a time constraint clearly as i missed the damn deadline, but i think ill get used to it as the week goes on!!! plus smosh is one of my longest surviving fandoms and i love it to death
> 
> day 2s submission is gonna be a sequel to this one, bc im honestly hella excited abt this, n i cant wait to write more. title is from ‘be your shadow’ by the wombats!!!
> 
> slight tw for an instance of homophobic language!!!
> 
> ok ive said my piece!!! heres this!!! comment if you enjoyed!!! <33

When you turn seven, you get a soulmate.

That’s how it is, has been for as long as language, for as long as people could read. _Tale as old as time,_ like from _Beauty & the Beast. _ Unexplained phenomenon, steadfast and simple as breathing.

And sure enough, right at midnight on David’s seventh birthday, there it is: a name on his left wrist in a small, fancy script his mother has to read to him. The name is _Wesley Alan Johnson,_ which David tells his mother is the kind of name that an old man has.

She chides him good-naturedly, because the poor boy can’t help his name, and he shouldn’t make fun if they’re going to get married one day. David then announces that he’s not having a soulmate after all, and Wesley Alan Johnson can find someone else to marry, someone with a name as stuffy as his.

Of course, that’s not how it ends up happening, but David is little, and boys are no concern of his just yet, and the only things that matter are playing imagination and getting ice cream on the way home from Grandma’s.

* * *

David meets Wes when he’s seventeen and convinced that soulmates aren’t actually his thing.

It’s a complicated age, you know; everyone’s doing new things, meeting new people, finding their soulmates--all that shit David’s never bothered once with. Everyone around him’s got someone, all of a sudden, and it irks him. 

David’s never been one for friends, anyhow--he’s contentious and brutal on the best of days--so it’s a hard, sharp jealousy, one he’s never had to deal with before. It makes him sulky, meaner than ever. Nobody remembers any of the important things. It’s all about girls and boys and friends, and David wants nothing to do with it.

It becomes a sort of bragging point. _I’m not trying to find my soulmate at all. I don’t even want one. Who cares, anyway? It’s bullshit, all of it._ People talk about him, as people in small schools often do. There goes David, the guy who doesn’t want a soulmate.

He puts out often enough. Most of the girls don’t like him, but the guys do. The football team likes him the best, but the lax guys are a close second. David’ll come to their games sometimes, just to watch them, see them after. It’s good; most of them have female soulmates, and all their visits with David are short and fumbling in the back of their cars, so David’s reputation is mostly rumor. But that’s how he likes it. He’s bulked up enough on testosterone and the bag in his dad’s garage to beat the shit out of anyone who calls him a faggot anyway, so what’s it matter?

Having a reputation is fun. Easy. David likes getting tattoos and piercing his ears, stealing Dad’s motorcycle for joyrides at three in the morning. It’s a gimmick, sure, one that’s been done to death--but it feels nice. Feels good.

And then.

* * *

“Would you _watch it,”_ David snaps, the hallway chorus swelling around him as someone jostles his shoulder.

_Someone._ As David looks at him, his gut does a slow roll.

He’s taller than David by a shit ton, standing almost six feet tall. He’s fit, too, his tight-fitting clothes stretching nicely over his broad chest and tiny waist. He’s even dyed his hair silver, let it grow out to nearly brush his shoulders.

He’s _hot._ Hot hot, not like the football players with their fleeting, identical faces. His features are chiseled and straight, all even, pointed. David feels his breath catch in his throat, and simultaneously wants to rail his brains out and punch him until the seventh seal breaks.

The guy does nothing but smile at him, though. Doesn’t say a damn word. Just cocks his head and keeps walking to class. The only one unaffected by--him. This.

David gets suspended around two hours later for getting in another fight, and doesn’t feel that deep turn in his stomach again. Not for a while.

* * *

It does happen again, though.

* * *

The guy is in David’s math class, because of course he’s in David’s math class.

Ms. Pelligrini checks him off for attendance as Wes, which makes David want to punch himself in the fucking face. Also makes his wrist itch, as Wes sends him a precocious look over his shoulder. The left wrist.

David glares steak knives back at Wes and excuses himself to the bathroom.

* * *

He knows. Of course he knows.

Math class sucks more than usual, because Wes is smug and grinning and sweet, so subtly in David’s direction. David always finds an excuse to go to the bathroom, the nurse’s office, anywhere but in class.

It almost works. Wes sends him a flash of a look, David ditches, and they don't say a word to each other.

But Wes corners him once, after class.

“You know, you don’t have to avoid me,” Wes says simply, cocking his head like he always does.

David moves to brush past him, but Wes is bigger than he is. When he throws out an arm to keep him from dodging past him, it makes David shudder. Touching him feels like touching a live wire. “Says who?”

Wes tilts his chin up, tugs at the collar of his jacket. “Just because you’re afraid of being my soulmate doesn’t mean I can’t be your friend.”

“I’m not afraid of _anything,”_ David spits, harsh and caustic, fury igniting in his stomach like a matchstick to gasoline.

At least. He tries to.

Wes kisses him, then. Right there, just as the bell rings and the hallway fills with students, for everyone to see him. Them.

It’s quick, though David feels his mouth open automatically. Wes’ lips taste like mint gum, cold and sharp, and it’s over before it’s anything. When Wes pulls away, David’s chin pushes forward without him letting it.

Wes straightens his shoulders, smiles confidently. David hates that he knows what that smile tastes like. “Wasn’t so bad,” he says sweetly, and then he turns tail and walks towards the stairwell. Despite his build and his hair, David loses him in the tittering crowd before he knows it.

“Oh,” David says stupidly.

Oh.

* * *

(David will think of him later, him with his stupid silver hair. _The kind of name that an old man has._

He’ll press his fists into his eyes, seethe, and then, after a few seconds of deliberation, he’ll shove his boxers down and take himself in hand.

His left hand, to be precise.)

**Author's Note:**

> remember to comment if you enjoyed!! <333


End file.
